


The Bitter Taste Of Nightmares Like Ashes On The Tongue

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Also Featuring Everyone Else In Supporting Roles, Big Shock There I Know, Dream Logic, Everyone Sits Down For A Long Overdue Feelings Jam, Gen, Nightmares, PTSD Dreams, Spoilers for Episode 21 of Campaign 2, Strong Implying That Trent Abused His Students, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14836512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Caleb falls asleep while upset, only to have certain revelations come to him in his dreams.





	The Bitter Taste Of Nightmares Like Ashes On The Tongue

No one’s talked to Caleb since he rejoined the group after the disagreement over the bowl. Well no, Nott had tried, but Caleb had simply shaken his head. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, because he has nothing to say, nothing anyone would be interested in hearing. The only words he speaks are to cast the alarm spell, and then he goes and curls up on his bedroll, facing towards the wall, closing his eyes. The group has rigged up torches in the walls so they can all see each other, but Caleb doesn’t want to look at any of them, or rather, he doesn’t want to see them looking at him, or in Jester and Beau’s case, most likely glaring at him. Maybe after a decent night’s rest the tension in the air will evaporate like morning fog and bring some clarity to the situation. Maybe in the morning, everyone will stop listening for Caleb to apologize. Because he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t. He—

_He is standing in Trent_ _Ikithon’s study, the one Trent had in the cottage where he had taken him and Astrid and Eodwulf. Trent is standing in front of his desk, not smiling. Trent hoards smiles and praise like a dragon hordes treasure, and it is a victory to perform well enough to be granted a kind word._ _Astrid is standing on Trent’s left, Eodwulf on his right. Trent has one hand on each of their shoulders, and Caleb can see the pain in his friend’s eyes at Trent’s grip, hard enough to bruise._

_“Do you know why I’m so hard on you, Caleb?”_

_Caleb had not been his name, not back at the cottage, not before the fire and the breaking. Caleb had been the name he had made for himself out of the ashes of his life. It’s wrong for Trent to say it. The knowing that this is a dream flashes across Caleb’s awareness and then fades._

_“No sir,” Caleb says, looking his mentor in the eye. Trent always made him do that. Eye contact and quiet hands, unless he was casting a spell, of course. Caleb wishes that Frumpkin was here so he could bury his hands in the familiar’s soft fur, but this was before Frumpkin, and Trent doesn’t like familiars, doesn’t like anything that isn’t himself, or something that he molded and shaped to be more like himself._

_“Because you’re quicker at your studies,” Trent says. “You know more than your peers. You’re so bright, Caleb. You could do so much more.”_

_It’s rude for Trent to say this in front of his friends, who have their own strengths. Caleb opens his mouth to defend them, even though he knows there will be consequences._

_“You’re so powerful, Caleb.” And it’s Nott’s voice coming out of the old man’s mouth and it’s absurd and surreal and wrong wrong wrong. Caleb eyes flick over to Astrid and Eodwulf, whose features melt and twist and change into Jester, into Calianna, who both bow their heads as Caleb stumbles backwards, heart pounding, boots striking the wooden floor that softens under his feet._

_Caleb’s feet sink into the mud of the swamp as he runs after the troll who has Beau clutched under one arm. She’s limp, unconscious, and they have to save her. He has to save Beau. She knows so much about him. Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. She has power over him. She’s a loose thread that needs tying up, and the fire leaps from his hands so easily, so quickly, too late to call back when Beau opens her eyes and looks at him and—_

_Caleb’s standing in the yard and his parents are screaming as their house burns and tears are streaming down his face and he wants to undo this, oh gods what has he done, who has he become, how did this happen, how—_

_There’s stone under his feet, and Caleb knows this room, oh yes, he can’t forget, can never forget, stone floor, stone walls, manacles hanging, sometimes empty, sometimes not. It’s where they bring the traitors. It’s where Trent brings his students when they need “correction.” Caleb wonders what he did now, but Trent is smiling. That’s good. Trent is smiling at Caleb and that means he’s not going to be hurt._

_“They don’t have a leader,” Trent is saying, and he gestures towards the wall where the manacles were hanging empty, just a moment ago. Six sets of them aren’t empty anymore. “You can lead them. You know more than they do. You’re so bright, Caleb. You burn so brightly. You could make them listen.”_

_Caleb’s friends raise their heads. Molly and Beau and Jester and Yasha and Fjord all stare at him, eyes blank. Nott looks at Caleb with eyes filled with devotion he does not deserve. In the corner, Frumpkin appears, fur fluffed out, hissing and spitting when Caleb reaches out for him._

_“No—I don’t—I won’t—“ Caleb can’t get the words out._

_Trent isn’t smiling anymore. “Well, if that’s the case, it’s best if you burn your bridges, don’t you think?”_

_Caleb feels the warmth in his hands and when he looks down he sees the skin cracking open, revealing the flames beneath. “No, I don’t want this, please don’t—“_

_The fire runs over his hands, not caring, just aching to burn. Caleb can’t stop himself from looking up, from raising his hands—_

“Caleb? Caleb, wake up!”

Caleb’s eyes fly open to see Jester’s concerned face looking down at him, her hand still on his shoulder from when she had shaken him awake.

“Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep and maybe crying a little and—“

Caleb goes to speak and instead claps a hand over his mouth, stumbling to his feet and running to the nearest unoccupied corner where he is quietly, violently sick.

“I guess that’s a no,” he hears Jester say, but there’s no unkindness in her tone.

Caleb leans against the wall, feeling tears drip down his cheeks, embarrassment and shame crawling up his spine. He wishes he could sink into the floor. He spits, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste of bile and nightmares that coat his tongue like ashes.

“Here,” Beau says from his left side, and he only has to turn his head slightly to see her holding out a waterskin. They’ve only known each other for what, a month? She already knows how not to startle him, about approaching him from the side and not the back, about waiting until she’s in his line of sight before she speaks. For all that Beau pretends not to care about things, she is careful with him, in her way.

“Thank you,” Caleb says softly, and the water washes away the terrible taste in his mouth but can do nothing for the nightmare. “Is—did I wake everyone?” His sense of time tells him that it is early morning outside, everyone would be awake soon anyway.

“Yeah, I think you kind of did. Sounded like you were having one hell of a nightmare.”

“ _Ja_ , I was.” Caleb swallows thickly, swipes at his tears with the sleeve of his coat. “I think I would like to talk to everyone, before we go exploring again. If that is all right. Would you ask them for me? I just… need a minute. Please.”

“Sure,”Beau says. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Caleb says. He is thanking her for many things, some of which he can not say out loud. He only has so much energy right now, so many words, and he needs to save them for what he’s going to say to everyone. He does not want to do this, but he _needs_ to. Because he does not want to be the man he was, or the man Trent wanted him to become. He wants to be better than that.

By the time he composes himself the rest of the group are awake (save for Kiri, and that is just as well)and sitting in a loose circle, leaving a space for Caleb to sit. Nott looks at him as he sits down, worry clear in her expression. They have a lot to talk about, about the pedestal that Nott has put Caleb on, but that isn’t what he wants to start out with.

Frumpkin jumps into Caleb’s lap, purring, and Caleb runs his hands through Frumpkin’s soft fur, not looking at the rest of the group for the moment, knowing that if he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone, no one here will force him. That makes it easier somehow, to look at them all a second later. All he sees is concern, and curiosity, and worry in their faces as he opens his mouth and begins to speak.

**Author's Note:**

> Inter-party conflict gives me life even as it hurts my heart a little and is a great opportunity for telling all sorts of different stories. Once I had the idea for the nightmare it just wouldn't let me go, and I do so enjoy writing dream sequences.
> 
> Also, I'm not *saying* Trent gave Caleb a trigger phrase, but if he *did* it would totally be "Burn your bridges." (Don't focus too hard on this folks, it really isn't a trigger phrase, more just a symbol of powerlessness.)
> 
> I'm angel-ascending over on Tumblr if y'all want to stop by and say hi!


End file.
